


Overcharged

by QueenAng



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Drunken Confessions, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:08:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23865769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenAng/pseuds/QueenAng
Summary: Wheeljack gets drunk and forgets the "secret" part of his and Starscream's secret relationship.
Relationships: Starscream/Wheeljack
Comments: 9
Kudos: 154





	Overcharged

Wheeljack didn’t really get out that much.

It wasn’t that he didn’t _want_ to, it was just— no, Wheeljack realized, slumping, it _was_ because he didn’t want to.

The club’s music blared around them, making the floor vibrate. The scent of the various tonics clogged the air. Wheeljack could see Ironhide’s mouthpiece moving, but he couldn’t make out a word he said from across the table. Well, half-table. This was more of a dance club than a drinking club, much to Wheeljack’s chagrin. That had been the one hope he’d kept alive for tonight.

Ironhide zipped around the table far too quickly – or maybe Wheeljack was already getting overcharged – and clapped a servo down hard on Wheeljack’s shoulder. “Come on, Jackie!” he yelled into Wheeljack’s audial. “Have a little fun! Live a bit! War’s over, and Screamer ain’t gonna kill ya for one night of letting loose.”

“Starscream,” Wheeljack corrected, for the umpteenth time that evening.

Ironhide just laughed, and a pushing crowd swept him from Wheeljack’s side before the engineer could say anything more. Despite being somewhere near the corner of this place, the crowd of mechs and femmes never stopped flowing. He stood close enough to the wall to feel the vibrations from the music pulsing back, uncomfortably and persistently, against his left fin.

Wheeljack stared down at the purple engex in his servo, watching the liquid swirl. Ironhide had been trying to get Wheeljack out of his lab for cycles now, turning to enlisting Windblade when he couldn’t personally do it. Wheeljack had felt bad for shoving his friend aside in favor of his work, and Starscream, but secretly dating the paranoid Emperor of Cybertron didn’t leave much time for date nights. He’d much rather have spent one of Starscream’s few quiet nights alone with him, in his hab.

Tonight was supposed to be a date night. Metroplex was in fine health, the government wasn’t under threat of collapsing at any moment, the rumor mill had been quiet lately. Starscream was in an uncharacteristically good mood, and Wheeljack had been looking forward to a peaceful night at his side with no distractions to steal either of their attentions away.

Windblade, now missing her Chromia-shaped shadow, nearly crashed into Wheeljack’s side. “You look like someone shot your turbo-puppy,” she said.

“He’s mourning the fact we’re making him have fun!” Ironhide hollered, from somewhere in the crowd.

Wheeljack was not having fun.

“Try this!” Windblade swapped her bright pink drink for Wheeljack’s purple one.

Wheeljack observed it skeptically, but before he could protest, Ironhide was back behind him. “One drink!” Ironhide said. “You gotta have a little fun!”

It would be acceptable to leave after one and a half drinks, right? Wheeljack thought, looking between his stolen engex and Windblade’s abandoned one. Starscream didn’t follow anything close to a normal recharge schedule, so Wheeljack could probably still find him awake in his hab. The night didn’t have to be lost yet.

Wheeljack swiped the engex up. “One drink,” he swore to Ironhide, and downed it.

* * *

‘One drink’ turned into two (because Windblade looked sad about drinking alone) which turned into three (because that green one looked really good), which turned into four (because why the Pit not?), which turned into five (because it was right there), which turned into… Wheeljack didn’t remember. But there had been more. Definitely. It _definitely_ took more than four drinks to get him wasted. Probably. Maybe. He hoped.

Wheeljack’s chronometer had shut off by the time they stumbled out of the bar… club… dance-thingy… the _building_ they had been in. Wheeljack stumbled over his own pedes; the cobbled ground seemed to shift between each reset of his optics.

“Metroplex,” Wheeljack muttered, “go to sleep.”

Windblade snickered under her ex-vents.

Ironhide patted his back sympathetically. “It’s all good, my friend,” he said. “We’ll get you back to your berth.”

“My berth…” Wheeljack echoed. His berth was in Starscream’s hab, with Starscream. Oh scrap. Was he in recharge? What time was it? The night air had a biting chill, and Wheeljack couldn’t wait to feel Starscream’s frame against his. The seeker’s jet engines practically functioned as a heater. Very nice to curl up against.

“Wait, wait,” Wheeljack said, trying to halt their party and succeeding only in falling back against Ironhide. He could feel the big mech’s laugh. “I gotta call… I gotta comm. Starscream.”

Windblade’s optics went from amused to stretched wide. She reached out a servo to stop Wheeljack from pressing his comm, saying, “Wait, no!” but missed.

Starscream picked up on the second ring. “Wheeljack?” His vocalizer crackled with static as he emerged from recharge.

“Starscream!” Wheeljack exclaimed. “Starscream— Star, I’m on my way home. Now. It’s—” Oh, right, his chronometer. “I dunno what time it is.” He glanced around. “Or where I am.”

“You’re drunk,” Starscream deadpanned.

“I’m drunk,” Wheeljack confirmed happily. “But I’m on my way home. Ironside—no, Iron… run… er, the red one is bringing me home.” Then he remembered Windblade, but drew a blank on her glyphs as well. “And the one, with the wings, and the marks, and the angry bodyguard.”

“Oh, joy,” Starscream said.

“They said they’d take me home,” Wheeljack informed him seriously, “but I don’t remember where your hab-suite is.”

Ironhide choked on something.

Wheeljack heard Starscream open his mouth, then stop, and finally start to say something again. “Can you connect me to Ironhide, please?”

Wheeljack felt his spark drop. “No.”

“Why, pray tell, not?”

“Because I love you,” Wheeljack said, like it was the most obvious thing in the universe. “I thought you liked talking to me. I like talking to you. About science. Science stuff. You’re real smart, Star. Could listen to you talk about science all day.”

“Thank you, sweet-spark.”

“You’re hot too.”

“Apt observation, dear.”

“Apt. Aft. You have a nice aft.”

“Such a gentle-mech. How did I get so lucky?”

“I’m so lucky,” Wheeljack echoed. “I love you, Star. I’m gonna come home and… and tell you how much I love you.”

“Can’t you do that over the comm?”

“It’s not the _same_ ,” Wheeljack whined.

“Oh, my apologies.”

“I’m sorry I missed our date,” he continued. “I can make it up to you! I’ll make you a great thingy of energon, from scratch.”

“Lovely sentiment, but I’m not letting you anywhere near a stove. You’re bad enough when you’re sober.”

“You don’t like my cooking?” Wheeljack sulked, and Ironhide’s grip behind his back kept his from crashing onto the road. “I thought you liked me.”

His vocalizer must have crackled convincingly, because Starscream immediately relented, “I do like you.”

Wheeljack perked back up. “Really? You like me.”

“I’m as shocked as you are,” Starscream said dryly.

Wheeljack practically beamed. “I like you too!”

“Wonderful! But, you know, if you really liked me, you’d give me Ironhide’s comm. frequency.”

Wheeljack sent it without a second thought.

“Thank you, dear,” Starscream said. “Your handler knows which doorstep to drop you at now.”

“Is it yours?” Wheeljack asked.

“Unfortunately.”

“I can’t wait to see you. I miss you!”

“We had lunch together.”

“We did?” Wheeljack swayed, Ironhide once more keeping him on his pedes. “I’m so happy I got to spend time with you.”

Starscream was quiet for a long moment, and Wheeljack started to worry their connection had fizzled after. But after a klik, Starscream said, “It makes me happy to spend time with you as well.”

Wheeljack must have blacked out after that, because the next thing he knew, he was shoved against a wall by a door as Ironhide pressed the buzzer insistently. Windblade looked at him like he’d grown a second helm, averting her gaze the moment the door began to slide open.

Ironhide took Wheeljack’s shoulder and directed him through the door. “Off you go. His problem now. Bye!”

The door fell shut again, leaving Wheeljack in the darkness of the hab-suite. A hot frame at his side kept him upright, directing his pedes toward a large berth. Wheeljack sighed as he was dropped down at the edge.

The berth was cool, especially compared to Starscream’s frame. “Come to berth,” Wheeljack muttered against the covers.

Starscream stalked along the far wall, drawing a curtain shut over the vast window. “In a moment,” he said. “Trust me, you’ll thank me in the morning.”

Starscream crawled onto the berth beside him as Wheeljack hauled himself the rest of the way up. He immediately latched onto Starscream’s trim waist, resting his helm at the side of the cockpit, where he could feel the faint vibrations from Starscream’s rumbling engine. He was so warm. Way better than any blanket, though Starscream had drawn one of those up around them as well.

“You’re going to hate yourself in the morning,” Starscream told him matter-of-factly.

Wheeljack hummed against his cockpit. “Are you going to hate me in the morning?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“Starscream?”

The jet sighed. “No. Of course not.”

Wheeljack smiled. “Then I’ll be fine.”


End file.
